Winterfeld

When the traces of autumn disappear the fields in Oderbruch become stoic and calm. The vast flatlands assume a monochromatic tone, the trees turn into brown - black silhouettes, the birds of prey sit perched, watchful of anything that moves. I love the skeletal appearance of nature of winter. The lines are now sharp, undisclosed, the contours etched precisely into the large blocks of the unmoving grey. At this time of year large swarms of cranes sometimes wander the fields and their long necks look like the dried bamboo reeds down by the river.